Benny Jay: Entertaining Ourselves

Big Mike and I are on the phone going over the fine details of launching our blog site.

A million, zillion people in the universe are launching blog sites everyday, but for us it's an impossible ordeal. I think Bill Gates built Microsoft in less time than it's taking us to launch this baby. The only man in the universe more ignorant about computers than Big Mike and me is Milo, the other stooge in this enterprise. Thank God he's not on this line or we'd be spending needless hours trying to explain this stuff to him.

As it is, Big Mike's in the middle of yet another labyrinth explanation of the latest chapter in this ongoing clusterfuck, and I have absolutely no clue as to what he's talking about so I keep ask extraneous questions that take him on tangents.

Then my other phone rings.

Usually, I'd just let it go. But, a.) I'm expecting a call from my buddy Rick, and b.) I think Big Mike could use a break from my endless stupid questions.

So I say: "Hold it right there, Big Feller." And I take the call.

"Hello," I say.

Pause. Then an unfamiliar male voice says: "Who just called me?"

There's an edge of suspicion to his tone. Like somehow I did something wrong, when, in fact, I did nothing wrong. Cause -- after all -- it was he just who called me!

So I say: "Who are you?"

Man, George Bernard Shaw himself couldn't come up with a wittier retort.

He mumbles, all indignant like: "Must be the wrong number." Then, click, he hangs up. No, sorry for taking your time. Or, my bad, I messed up.

I tell Big Mike what happened and for some reason it tickles our collective funny bone. It's hard to explain why we find this so funny. Perhaps it's cause the world is so unrelentingly miserable that we have to find ways of entertaining ourselves. But, whatever, we're going over the exchange again and again, analyzing its every detail, and we can't stop laughing.

Little do I know, but my younger daughter's in the next room. She must have been reading or something, cause she walks out in a huff, like my gales of laughter have interrupted her and she says: "Oh, my god -- how can you think that's funny?"

I ignore her and I tell Big Mike about the time I got a phone call from a lady who heard me say hello. "And then she goes: "Who's this?"

He's roaring.

"And I go: `Who's this? Who are you? You called me....'"

Big Mike stops laughing long enough to say: "How can she possibly think that's the right response to dialing the wrong number? This can't be the first time she dialed a wrong number and heard a strange voice on the line. When she did it before, did someone say, `This is Harry, who are you?'"

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha....

"Or, `Well, I'm glad you asked -- I've been wondering myself. I'm having an identity crisis....'"

Identity crisis! It's too much.

I'm howling. He's howling.

My daughter walks past the room. "Are you still talking about that?" she says in disbelief.

I want to call her a hater but I can't get the words out, I'm laughing so hard.

"Oh, my god," she says. "You and your friends are so weird...."

Big Mike: Brainy Brian Learns A Lesson

A couple of guys I know are trying to start their own web site. One of them - let's call him Barney Kay - is an admitted dope when it comes to technology, the Internet, electronics, machinery and, for that matter, chewing his food. He wears his ignorance as a badge of honor. He leans on friends and acquaintances to help him through crises like computer crashes and those rare occasions when he gets a bit of celery stuck between his teeth. He has lent one ear each to his friend the track coach and his college-student daughter, who guide him through modern life's puzzles. Barney sings their praises as if they are the second coming of the Steves, Wozniak and Jobs.

The other fellow - call him Brainy Brian - tells his pal Barney that he knows this computer business like the back of his hand, that the two of them have no need for such self-proclaimed experts as track coaches and college-student daughters. He holds Barney Kay's hand through countless phone conversations wherein the two try to navigate the treacherous waters of the cyberworld.

Barney Kay and Brainy Brian made the decision to go online with their rants and flights of literary fancy early last fall. First, they honed their voices on a free blog site. Once they became good at it, they told each other, they'd create their own free-standing site. By Christmas, they knew they were ready to strike out on their own. They'd never missed a day of posting and kept each other entertained throughout.

As any schoolchild knows, it takes the click of a Buy This Package Now! button to start a web site. But Brainy Brian has convinced Barney Kay that they should study web hosts, web builders and the like with all the zeal of Marie and Pierre Curie trying to decipher the mysteries of radium.

"We must do this the right way," Brainy Brian proclaims.

"Yeah sure, but how do we know what's the right way?" responds Barney Kay.

"Don't worry," Brainy Brian says, giggling at his dear friend's timidity. "Leave it to me. I'll get you all the information you need so we can make a rational, considered decision."

At which point, Barney Kay shrugs and says, "Well, you know me. I'm a dope when it comes to technology, the Internet, et cetera. In fact, I'm proud of my ignorance!"

"Hah," says Brainy Brian. "You're lucky you have me as a partner. My knowledge of the topic is second only to that Gates guy, and he only knows about a few more details that I consider extraneous."

The preceding conversation has taken place, in one form or another, at least a dozen times since early last fall. Since then, Brainy Brian has immersed himself in the world of web sites. He's even written up a glossary for Barney Kay so the two can chatter in geek language.

Here's an example of one such conversation:

Brainy Brian: "Let's look for a company that offers 10 or 15 gigabytes of disk space and guarantees 99.9 percent uptime."

Barney Kay: "What's disk space?"

"Jesus Christ! I sent you the glossary. Didn't you read it?"

"Yeah, I read it, but I don't remember disk space."

Brainy Brian again explains disk space.

"Okay, got it," says Barney Kay. "Now, what's uptime?"

"Aaaaarrrggghhh!"

So, Brainy Brian returns to his lonely task of finding the perfect web host for the pair's new web site. He reads countless web host reviews. He thumbs through Wired and PCWorld at the Barnes & Noble magazine rack. He visits every conceivable web host's site, comparing prices, features and options.

Brainy Brian has contemplated MySQL, POP3/IMAP/STMP, Box Trappers, Coppermines, PHP-Nukes, Mambo and Joomia, Zen Carts, Apache Watchdogs, Pythons, PERL 5, CGI-BIN, AWStats, SSI, SSH, and ASP.NET AJAX.

Brainy Brian has also mulled the attributes of Red Hat ES Linux 4 OS, RAIF functionality, the EXTJS control panel and Putty. When he encountered this last feature, Brainy Brian sat back in his chair and let out a mighty sigh. He shook the cobwebs out of his head and yelled:

"WHAT IN GOD'S HOLY FUCKING NAME ARE THESE PEOPLE TALKING ABOUT!"

As the cats ran for cover, Brainy Brian banged his head against the dining room wall. Then he went into the den and banged his head against three of the walls in that room. Finally, he collapsed into his bed and cried himself to sleep.

If any of you can guess who these two fellows are, please don't tell Barney Kay what Brainy Brian has been going through. See, Brainy Brian has sent Barney Kay a monograph explaining precisely why they should choose a certain company to be their web host. It's chock full of all the aforementioned arcana. When Barney Kay reads it, he'll think that Brainy Brian has made a momentous choice based on all the available information at hand. It is the model of a rational, considered decision. Now, Barney Kay and Brainy Brian's web site can be up within days.

Try as he might, though, Brainy Brian has no more familiarity with MySQL than he does with the inner workings of the Illuminati. He made his web host choice based on Barney Kay's offhand mention that that is the company his track coach friend uses for his successful web site. Brainy Brian secretly hopes Barney Kay's college-student daughter approves.